Like Never Before
by altairattorney
Summary: [post-T&T, no AJ] It was time for him to return.


**Like Never Before**

_Written August 25th, 2011 - Revised September 3rd, 2014_

It was a day like any other when Miles Edgeworth found out he was genuinely proud of his life.

In the beginning, it was not a clear feeling – only a sudden, quiet sensation, mingling with a lot of more common ones. But it was true indeed; for a long while already, he thought, he had been able to walk the courthouse corridors without attracting glances, greetings or malevolent whispers. He simply had never paid enough attention to notice.

That day – for the very first time – he realised that, around him, nothing unusual happened anymore.

That simple fact stroke him as quite odd.

It took him a while to fully acknowledge what it meant. Eventually, at its due time, it happened; and he found himself reflecting about _famous_and _infamous_, two very similar words with completely different meanings.

It wasn't rare for Franziska to disagree with his ideas. In fact, Miles couldn't imagine her ever doing anything else, in spite of the strong affection they shared. She was a von Karma after all; and that, he imagined, was the main reason why she utterly disapproved of the many choices he had been pondering after that particular turn of events in his life.

At the end of his stay in Berlin, while they were driving to the airport, she commented on how foolish it would be to end his worldwide working trip. He wasn't surprised. Franziska was not totally wrong, to be honest; yet, Miles had made his choice, and he wouldn't go back.

He could not find any more reasons to stay away.

By then, he had been studying foreign legal systems for five years. The tough mental training he had undergone had provided his already bright intelligence with a unique sharpness; and although, as wise men know well, there is always room for personal improvement, his interest had slowly shifted towards the others.

The world was full of people with less experience, knowledge and opportunities than him; people he could be useful to, and truly needed him more than he had ever considered.

He told her he just wanted to help. She did not speak a word. He was grateful for that.

It was his deed to teach himself what being trustworthy really meant, by meeting again the sights and the faces that had had it all started. It was time for him to return.

And now – now that he lived side by side with the people who had taught him to take care of others – he couldn't be happier for having done so.

After all, among the many pleasant things he had gained, Miles was particularly satisfied with getting his old job back. It still represented almost all of his life, and, at last, that happened in a very good sense. Even with the sharp and stinging attitude he couldn't get rid of – it was part of his character, as much as an old habit – the ever full courtrooms were thoroughly impressed by his skills, and definitely not in a negative way.

No one told him directly, but it was not hard to see; after the first cases he had handled since he had returned, the old fear his figure once inspired had gradually turned into silent, yet genuine, respect. He had truly learnt to go for the truth, rather than for a guilty verdict – no wonder everyone noticed, all at once, how differently he faced his trials. He had come back where it all had started, as a different prosecutor and a different person.

And yet, as the other lawyers liked to say now and then, he was the same old Edgeworth.

Unexpectedly, and taking his colleagues by surprise, the prosecutor also managed to appreciate Gumshoe's undying admiration exactly as it deserved to.

He had never really cared about what went through his messy and inconstant mind – that man was way too confused to even fulfill the simplest tasks of his job properly. Yet, the most important truths make their way in men's hearts silently, drop after drop – and one day, following the path of many rumours and memories he had collected in his long working years with Gumshoe, he suddenly re-examined his thoughts, finding out that they had always trusted each other. Even through the pay cuts, the hardships and the humiliations.

That Christmas Eve, _Herr Scruffy_ – as Franziska later referred to him, while commenting on her little brother's weaknesses on the phone – rushed into his office, a brown envelope in his hands, and flooded the carpet with tears of joy. After a series of thanks and wishes which never seemed to end, Gumshoe asked what good deed he had fulfilled to deserve such a honour – to have that month's salary tripled, under prosecutor Edgeworth's request.

After all, Miles was not good at that sort of answers yet. Furiously stirring his tea, he mumbled something under his breath – since the working calendar was filled with such pointless festivities as Christmas, he just wanted his old colleague to have a concrete and logic reason for celebrating.

As he accompanied him outside, while being overwhelmed by another avalanche of sincere compliments, he listened to his teary voice with deep sympathy and a shade of contentment. At least, he thought with a slight chuckle, someone actually had the opportunity to be happy about festivities, and to get some well-deserved rest.

As for himself, holidays definitely were the last thing he could anticipate. Little did he know that, sooner or later, he would have to change his mind.

Miles should have imagined a dear friend of his would try to arrange him some poor excuse for a social life, in spite of how annoying he had always found it. In the end, although it was something he had never really bothered to care about, Miles knew it was a risk which came with spending the rest of his days in their hometown; and so – maybe unintentionally, as naïve as he was – Phoenix Wright achieved that.

At first, they were simple invitations, spoken half-heartedly and as fast as he could. Phoenix never really believed he would come; he just tried, because some weird feeling in his mind or heart wanted him to. Sometimes he would hesitantly accept to have a quick cup of coffee; sometimes he would clear his throat and politely turn the offer down, trying to hide his slightly regretful blush.

The first time they managed to invite him to a proper party, obviously, he knew nothing. No matter how many times he tried to explain he had an appointment – as soon as he met the pleading eyes of the Fey cousins, his reluctance made no difference at all.

He ended up cancelling everything and turning up at Phoenix's house, in perfect timing to find a very messy surprise party for his thirtieth birthday. He had lowered his gaze, uncomfortable, yet sincerely touched by their gesture.

Since then, his invitations were never declined, also because his friend – aware of his _fondness_ for company and noise – was tactful enough not to send them too frequently.  
>Anyway, it was not rare for Miles to meet Phoenix for lunch, or after a long day in court; they would sometime drink a cup of tea together, and often end up talking for hours. The tough embarrassment they felt in the past had been gradually replaced by ease, familiarity, and complete comfort in understanding each other.<p>

In fact, even though Miles still found it a bit difficult to manage relationships, Phoenix was one of the extremely few people who truly made him feel good, and got him to voice smoothly what was on his mind.

Indeed, much had changed in the life he could now claim to be proud of.

He frequently recalled the days when he could barely talk to other people, and sometimes those memories would surprise him. Months and years had passed – many unspoken things had been finally told and cherished by the ones he loved, and they had stayed, burning in their eyes and in their chests.

Still, of all the people he truly held close, he never told anyone the most important reason why he had returned, except for a single person.

He finally told him, among the messy remains of a New Year's eve – in the first place, and because of everything that had come along, the reason had been Phoenix himself.

The attorney needed a few spare seconds before giving a proper answer.

"Weren't they your words, I- I'd never believe it," he murmured, his gaze shining with a veil of tears. "I am glad to hear this, really."

They had known each other for almost twenty-five years, and Phoenix's blue eyes had always retained all of their piercing strength.

The prosecutor nodded gently, and went on. He told him about the most important facts he had discovered after that decision, the last crucial turning point of his existence.

The only thing he regretted, he had to admit, was the way too long time it had took him to understand what truly mattered and what was not necessary. It sure was ironical, he joked, coming from a man who had never used to be late.

"I can see why you believe so," Phoenix said pensively. "I think otherwise, though. When you choose to do something, it is usually the action itself, and not its timing, to make the difference."

In fact, that was one of the greatest truths life had shown them. Although he looked completely serious in the faint light of the lamp, Phoenix couldn't help chuckling at the thought – after all they had been through, it was finally him to teach someone else a lesson, and not the other way around.

"Am I right, Miles?"

For the first time since they had met again, the prosecutor showed him a full, radiant smile. How could he have any regrets? They had so many years ahead of them – years of hard and good times, of learning and suffering, of believing and rejoicing. Years to spend together, as they had been since the beginning of everything.

As for his question, Miles had always agreed to that; but now, and now only, that simple truth was clear like never before.

"You have always been right," he whispered gladly. "Phoenix."


End file.
